The Motherload
by myboygeorge
Summary: Greg and Nadine have been dating for a few months now, but he has yet to meet Nadine's mother, who doesn't speak English...at all. Will Greg crack or rise to the occasion? First 2 Chapters are pre Brothers & Sisters, Chapter 3 begins postAffirmation. R
1. When Greg Met Nadine I

_Feb 3rd 2006_

Greg looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror of his Jeep, making sure his recently trimmed sideburns were even, as scythe wielding butterflies began to flutter in his stomach. It was the Friday night he'd been dreading for awhile: Warrick's wife was hosting a departmental fundraising mixer and naturally Warrick was being hauled in. Warrick in turn had begged Greg to come with him so that if he felt the urge to wind up and clock a snippy surgeon, Greg would provide him with a fantastic distraction. The prospect of wasting a free Friday night was beyond a little frightening, but Warrick needed him, and given that Warrick seemed to look like a harsh thought might knock him down when he mentioned his wife, Greg would have been sorely remiss to say no. Now, as he approached the door of Angelo's he forced himself to take a few deep breaths, square his shoulders and step up to the maitre d'.

"Hi, I'm with the Brown party," he said firmly, knowing his rather retro-looking pinstripe sport coat over his jeans was being judged.

"This way sir," the host responded snidely, making Greg roll his eyes as he was lead to the private function room. He stepped in, looked around hoping to find the one person he knew at this thing. Since Warrick stood a head taller than most people Greg knew and there was no sign of his curly quasi-afro, he stepped up to the bar and ordered a Kilkenny draft. He sipped it carefully, resting an elbow on the bar as he surveyed the crowd.

"Can I get a TGV with soda and a cannon ball?"

Greg glanced over to his right at the woman making this request – and did a double take. The voice had been slightly accented, but the woman it belonged to looked like Ulla from _The Producers_. She had rich honey blond hair twisted up in a fancy knot at the back of her head. Her curvy figure was decked out in a striped dress of blues and creams that accented her body in all the right places; and this woman was no pencil, Greg would have put her at a healthy one-fifty of well muscled arms and legs. The brown leather pumps she wore put her at nose-to-shoulder level which meant she'd just cleared five and a half feet in her socks. Then suddenly, Greg found himself reaching for his wallet.

"Here, let me get that for you," he said, passing the bartender a ten.

The woman turned back to him, hands, and Greg could now see the deeper flecks of colour in her powder blue eyes matched the blue in her dress perfectly. When she flashed a smile of perfectly white teeth, he felt his knees turn a little watery.

"That's very kind of you," she replied with that hint of implacable accent, "but I don't know if my boyfriend will appreciate that."

Greg's confidence vanished like smoke. "Oh, well…is he a doctor?"

"Oh yes, he's gorgeous, works in the ER, came over from Eastern Europe."

"Sounds nice."

"Yes, his name is Luca Kovac and when I grow up, I'm going to marry that man," she giggled.

It took Greg a second to realize she was referring to a character from _ER_. She was having him on, making him laugh at his own stupidity.

The woman sipped her drink carefully as she passed the other to the other woman standing beside her who had appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye. "I've never seen you at these things before. Are you here with your girlfriend…or boyfriend?"

"Oh no," Greg spluttered, but once again, she flashed that smile and his legs liquefied a little more.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I know you're here alone."

"And how do you know that?"

"You just told me."

"So I've gone from girlfriend to boyfriend to single in a thirty second space, I think maybe I should go call the people at Guinness World Records."

"I'll hold your beer."

At that moment, Warrick appeared out of the crowd, pissed off as wet rooster.

"Greg! Where the hell have you been, man? I've been looking for you for like twenty minutes."

"Sorry, Warrick, I've been talking to…" Greg trailed off gesturing to the blonde. When she didn't fill in the blank, he whispered, "This is the part where you say your name."

"Oh sorry. Nadine Barton. You're Warrick?"

"Yeah," Warrick said at length as he cautiously shook her hand, then gestured to Greg's draft to place an order.

"I've heard Tina talk about you, how you're always out fighting crime, and that's why you never make it to these parties. Such a shame."

"Oh, so that's why you always volunteer for overtime," Greg interjected, suddenly aware he didn't like the way Nadine was flirting with his colleague. He should have expected it thought, since Warrick seemed to be the buff hunk most women wanted to go after. _Did I just call Warrick a 'buff hunk'_, he thought fleetingly.

Warrick had heard the shift in Greg's voice; it was small but it was there. It was also something he'd never really heard from Greg before, a kind of territoriality that meant one thing: _mine_. After grabbing his beer, Warrick took a quick sip, nodded at Nadine and Greg.

"Well, enjoy your evening, Nadine; I'm sure I'll know where to find Sanders if I want to not hear about the latest techniques in colonoscopies."

Grateful he now had the monopoly of Nadine's attention once again; Greg took another bracing swig of his beer. "So, I'm sure you've connected the dots by now."

"You work with my boss' husband. Are you in the field or in the lab?"

This one took Greg back a little. "Excuse me?"

"I've heard Tina talk about the people Warrick works with a little, she said they're either all a bunch of lab rats or field mice. So which are you?"

"Former lab rat, currently field mouse. What about you?"

"How about field rat?" Nadine offered. "I'm a paediatric nurse, and I'm doing more training to be a surgical nurse, so I've been scrubbing in with Doctor Brown for about a year and a half now."

_A nurse. Score_, Greg thought. "So is it like a family tradition? Your mom was a nurse and her mom was a nurse?"

"Actually I'm the first one. My sister's a lawyer in Cayenne, Dad was an architect and Mama ran the house."

"Oh so you're from California?"

"Close. French Guyana."

Greg stared at her for a humming three seconds before bursting out laughing. "How the hell is that even close?"

"It's not, but I've been pretty tough on you." Nadine sipped her cocktail delicately, studied him with glittering eyes that belied how her pulse had picked up a little. "You don't date a lot, do you?"'

"Erratic hours, not much time off, coming home smelling like blood or fat or worse; I consider myself lucky if a woman stays around more than two weeks."

Nadine leaned over, gave an audible sniff as she rested a balancing hand on his arm. "Well today you smell like honey, pine oil and…roses. Let me guess…Givenchy?"

"The lady's got a sharp tongue and sharper nose."

"Actually, I did a minor in biochemistry; one of my papers was on the components of perfumes." Nadine looked at Greg. She liked him, she realized, she definitely felt…something here. He was cute, he was funny, and he didn't act all creepy like most men did when they learned her profession. She set aside her empty glass, picked up her coat from the bar stool. "Let's get out of here."

"What?"

"I know a great little coffee place around the corner. It's got real food, not all this fancy finger crap and a sweet Kenyan blend. You can tell me about fighting crime and I can get of my feet. These shoes are killing me."

Greg had no response except, "Sure."


	2. When Greg Met Nadine II

The little coffee shop was more of a diner without the tacky nostalgic trappings and food that didn't taste like the bottom of a deep fryer. They'd been here over an hour, sitting in the buttery leather booth trading stories and flirtations over his burger and her chicken fajitas.

"He did not!"

"I swear I did, high kicks and all."

"If my boss had caught me wearing a feathered headdress, she'd have shipped me over to psych."

"I'm surprised Grissom didn't." Greg grinned as he dragged a French fry through a puddle of ketchup. Nadine was right, they did mix a sweet Kenyan blend, and they made a killer cheeseburger with the works.

Nadine laughed, punched him in the arm, letting her fingers linger. He was slim but there was muscle here; the kind that wasn't noticeable unless it was something you looked for. She happened to be the sort attracted to that lanky well-built body he sported.

"So how did you get from French Guyana to nursing in Las Vegas?" Greg noted the hand on his arm, felt his skin tingle. It had been a while, longer than he cared to remember, since he'd felt this kind of comfort level around a woman.

"I moved here with my parents and my sister when I was twelve" Nadine popped a fried pepper into her mouth. "Ten years later they divorced, and Mama and Amandine moved back home. I stayed here with Daddy until he died."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Greg automatically laid his other hand over hers. His sister Renee was very close to their father, and he didn't want to imagine what it'd be like if they lost him at their age. "How-?"

"A heart attack. He was fifty-three." Nadine shrugged. "I didn't have a lot of time with him, but the time I got I cherished. What about you, do you have any family around here?"

"My parents live in San Gabriel, and my little sister Renee is doing her doctorate in forensic psych at University of Miami. She's actually coming to Vegas in a few weeks and I'm trying to get the time off to visit with her."

"So you guys are close, then." A small kernel of green jealousy bloomed in Nadine's chest. She'd wished she was close to the saintly Amandine, but so long as her mother kept comparing her two daughters to each other, Nadine knew the pretty lawyer would always be the competition. "Did anyone ever mistake you for twins?"

"She's six years younger than me and a redhead like our grandmother, so not so much."

"Amandine and I always got that, even though she's three years older. Drove her nuts," she added.

Greg beamed at the tone in her voice, that smug little sister sound he'd also heard in Renee's voice on more than one occasion. He rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her hands, little shivers going down his back.

"I bet you're prettier though."

"Ah…" Actually, it had always been the other way around; no one had told Nadine she was prettier than Amandine a day in her life. Amandine looked like a movie star and Nadine was…herself, curvy in all the wrong places. Still it was sweet of him to think she could be. She leaned in, kissed his cheek as her own burned red. "Flirt all you like, you're not seeing my underwear tonight."

"What?"

"I'm not _that_ nurse," she stated matter-of-factly, hoping it didn't put a damper on this otherwise blissful evening.

"What nurse?"

"Don't play dumb. Most men harbour this stereotypical notion that all nurses are nymphomaniacs, and I like to set the record straight upfront."

"When I definitely don't want to end up in pieces in the back alley," he concluded.

"Huh?"

Greg briefly told her about a case two years before when they'd found a nurse butchered in her bathroom because she gave it away like M&M's and a lover with access to scalpels got jealous. "She fit that stereotype, but you definitely don't."

"And why do you say that?"

"Because when you said let's get out of here, we didn't end up doing the back-seat boogie in my Jeep. We're here chatting over burgers and coffee."

"What if this is a ploy before we get to that step? You have only known me for all of three hours; this could be my MO for seducing men."

The skin on the back of Greg's neck itched. Oh she was a sly one. "Call me crazy, but as a trained investigator, I don't think that you're the kind of girl who would just find a stud like me and haul him back to the ranch for breeding."

"You're such a nerd," Nadine giggled. "And you're very right. I don't sleep with strange men."

"Well it's nice to have known you," he mocked, pretending to get up before she pulled on his wrist to sink him back into the booth.

"_Quel charmant idiote_," she muttered in French, which made the Greg's blood begin to do laps around his brain. "Sorry, I still curse people out in French."

"No, it's hot. I like it."

"Well then, _tu peut me conduire au resto pour acquérir ma voiture,_ if you'd be so kind," Nadine smiled. "It means you can take me back to the restaurant to pick up my car. I have rounds at five tomorrow morning, and I just finished twelve hours before coming to this gig."

Greg obliged her; the entire car ride back to the Angelo's parking lot went much like their dinner had, full of flirtations and playful shoves or smacks. Only this time, she didn't let go of his hand, nor did he want her to. When he escorted her back to the nifty little black Mazda 3 Sport, he stopped short so she would spin around to face him. Instead she wound up in his arms, her hands trailing over his shoulders before interlacing at the back of his neck.

"I want to see you again," he said bluntly.

"Me too."

It wasn't quite obvious how they wound up locked in a kiss, whether Greg had leaned in towards her, or Nadine pulled him close, but they locked lips all the same. He tasted sweet, like the creamy coffee she'd watched him down at the diner. And he could kiss; the firm lips against hers were not the lips of a typical science geek. These were pure male and made her sigh a little.

When he broke the kiss, Greg fought the urge to shake his head, to reassure himself his brain was still intact and not a hot lump of jelly. Her quick mouth with its overfull bottom lip was like kissing an angel, telling him he hadn't been wrong on his instinct to try and get a cursory kiss. There was a definite spark here.

"Call me the next night your free," she said.

"Okay." He let his arms drop then, started to walk back to his own car when he felt Nadine tug on his hand. "What?"

"You need my number if you want to call me," she said slowly, as she might have with one of her patients.

Greg squeezed his eyes shut. "Right, yeah...that might...that might help," he replied lamely, fishing out his cell phone to key in her number. He watched her climb into her car, drive north out of the lot before he hopped into his Jeep. He wasn't surprised when he found a message from Warrick cursing him out for ditching him.

_Sanders, you better have gotten dead or laid for you to ditch me with those medical power trips. And if you got laid…I hate you even more. See you next shift_.

Greg just smiled, turned up his radio as he hummed along with The Clash on the Friday night late show. He may not have gotten into Nadine's drawers but he could guarantee Warrick one thing: he'd definitely gotten his heart rocked.


	3. Ordinary Day

_October3rd 2006...8 Months Later_

Life was good, which had Greg worried. He'd just made his first court appearance on a case as a solo CSI and had the satisfaction of seeing the wife-beating worm given a nice long sentence upstate. He was a hop skip and tape lift away from a promotion to a CSI level II, which meant more cases where he was flying solo , maybe even the primary. And the new receptionist, who'd replaced Judy for her maternity leave, flushed a cherry red colour every time she saw him come through the front doors.

On a personal front, things were also going smoothly which made it all the more worrisome. Renee had accepted a counselling position with the LVPD a month before and moved in with Nick in his pretty little bungalow on West Desert Drive. It was a little frightening to think of his little sis as someone's romantic roomie, but Greg couldn't hate Nick too much for it, since the handsome Texan could barely keep the grin off his face every time he mentioned her name. Greg figured it was just a matter of time before the wedding bells were a-ringing.

Even his love life things were going better than they had in recent memory. He'd been seeing Nadine Barton for about eight months, and the paediatric nurse kept him on his toes. Keeping the relationship going with Nadine had not been as difficult as Greg might have thought. He'd been very nervous about how the wall of sexual intimacy would be breached, as the scars of the lab explosion covering a third of his torso had made more women than he cared to count gag with repulsion. But Nadine had simply said she liked him, and that they were simply part of him. Once that hurdle had been taken care of, they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Outside the bedroom too, there'd been no denying that she was a perfect balance for him. She was just as much a music freak as he was, though her taste ran to the classic rock of the seventies. But while Greg often fumbled with his words in social situations, Nadine was smart as a whip and could often deliver a lethal backhanded compliment with a serene smile on her face. Contrarily, when Greg would bring up details about any kind of pop culture reference, Nadine often felt herself slipping out of the loop since she so very rarely watched the most recent movies or listened to the latest music. Greg liked to joke that it was because of his geeky science-bent charm and dazzling smile that she couldn't keep her hands off of him, the rest of his colleagues, Renee included, were quick to assume that because she worked with kids all day she could date someone with his personality since he was such a big kid himself.

Yes, things were going great, and it scared the hell out of Greg. Something was bound to happen to throw him right back into the stress he'd come to live with, almost anticipate. He could feel the tingle in the air as he stood shaving at Nadine's tiny bathroom sink, while the lady of the house was in the shower and singing a brutally off-key version of "Layla".

"What time is your shift done, babe?"

"I'll be home around eight, I think," Greg called back, tapping the razor against the porcelain. "I'm tapped out on field time this week, so I'll be confined to the lab and wrapping up paperwork."

"Sounds good."

Greg smiled as he patted his face dry with one of Nadine's signature orange towels, went back into the bedroom, pulled his pants out of the closet, absently staring at the mixture of their laundry on the floor as he pulled the cotton over his silk boxers. It felt less and less weird to think of her apartment as their home. He still kept his place for after work showers, especially the ones involving any kind of decomp, but he had his own drawers and rack space in her wardrobe, along with a spare toiletries kit, and a few other odd bits. Her favourite blanket to nap with, however, stayed at his place so that when she stayed over, there was something concrete of hers there too. Greg would never admit it since it would earn him endless teasing from the guys at the lab, but when he was at his apartment alone he'd sleep with that blanket too, because it was Nadine's.

The phone began to ring then, short shrill bursts that snapped Greg out of his reverie. A chill ran through Greg as he saw the 973 area code. _973_, he thought, _where in the hell is that?_ Still, he cleared his throat and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Allo?" The voice was French, very matronly and shocked. "Je cherche Nadine Barton."

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't speak French."

Greg was met with a dial tone as he blinked, bewildered. Who would be calling Nadine that spoke French?

"Who was it?" Nadine asked, stepping out of the bathroom, her shower done, wearing her towel like a toga.

"Oh, ah, wrong number I think." He thought it would be wise to leave it at that, but some unknown force had him opening his mouth again. "Some woman speaking in French looking for you."

"Was she old sounding or young?"

"What difference does that make?" Greg replied as he followed her into the bedroom and pulled a shirt from his side of the closet. He loved having a side of the closet, it made for such nicer sleepovers at her house.

"Because then I'll know if it was my mother or sister who hung up on you."

Greg nodded as he fastened his last button on his shirt. He knew Nadine hailed from South America and that she was a dual citizen of both America and French Guyana, but he often forgot that English was not her mother tongue. Years of watching American television and reading of English literature had taught her well; the accent was practically invisible. It only surfaced when Nadine made mention of her family, and this was no exception. He slid his watch onto his wrist, turned back to see Nadine, now dressed in her jungle-print scrubs, tying up her honey blond hair into a bun.

"What was it she wanted, do you think?"

"Probably wants to just give me my monthly update on things in Cayenne, you know, your sister is married and making babies and has a great legal practice, and to remind me of the fact that I am unmarried and running around looking after other people's babies."

"She knows you have a boyfriend though, right?"

"Oh of course, but that doesn't matter. You aren't supposed to be having a boyfriend when you're an old maid like me."

"Nadine, you're not an old maid, you're not even thirty yet." Greg saw the light leave her eyes as she continued her venting. It confused him as to why her mother wouldn't be able to see her as the amazing and independent woman he saw, who didn't need antiquated ideas of femininity to define her. But before he could say so, Nadine was barreling on.

"Doesn't matter. My sister was married before she hit law school and was already a mother by the time she set up her firm. Now she's got a brood of four kids, a thriving practice, and my mom's got complete bragging rights. Anyways," she waved it off, "I'll call her back tonight, and see what she wants."

Greg crossed to her, kissed her deeply. "Don't let her get to you."

"I know, but she's my mom."

"Trust me, I know the feeling." He kissed her again, this time dipping his tongue over hers as she grabbed his butt.

"How do you feel about Italian and sex for dinner tonight?"

"Well, I do like Italian," he teased, earning a quick tap on the bottom. He nipped at her lower lip once again. "Sounds like a little slice of heaven."


	4. Mamma Mia I

A/N: The line Nadine says in French translates roughly as : "Son of a bitch, what are we going to do? She will let nothing go, Greg, nothing!"

* * *

After Nadine's shift at the hospital was done that night, after she'd gone home and showered the day's grit and grime off her body, she sat on her overstuffed navy blue couch in her sweats, staring at the phone. Nadine hated calling her mother back, usually because it was one of her nieces who answered and always called her the 'silly American aunt on the phone'. Still, she knew it would be worse if she delayed the call. Sighing heavily, Nadine picked up the phone, dialed the number and was a little surprised when the lady of the house actually picked up.

"Allo?"

"Bonjour, Mama," Nadine replied in flowing French, kneading her fingers into the couch cushions.

"Nadine! Why are you calling so late?"

"It's only eight here, Mama."

"Who was the man who answered your phone so early this morning?"

"That was Greg, Mama, he's my boyfriend. He stayed over last night and I was in the shower when you called."

"I don't think that's proper, Nadine, for a single woman to have a man staying the night."

_And so it begins_, Nadine thought wincingly. Only the formidable Marie-Fantine de Rosemont – she'd dropped her married name after the divorce – could start a phone conversation from four time zones away and sound as if she was an eavesdropping neighbour.

"Greg and I have been dating for eight months now, Mama, so I don't think that single is quite how I'd describe myself."

"If you're not married you're single."

Nadine gritted her teeth, switched the subject to her mother's favourite topic quite deliberately. "How's Amandine?"

"Good, good, her firm is becoming quite well known. She and her partners recently settled a large case for Adeline Hernandez, the movie star. It has been very stressful on her, many nights at the office."

"Tell me about it, I've been putting in a lot of extra shifts so I can scrub in on surgical cases. There was this one, with a seven year old boy, and he'd-"

"I'm sure taking care of other people's children isn't quite so taxing when you don't have any of your own," Marie-Fantine neatly slapped at her daughter. "Amandine and Paul recently purchased a vacation house outside the city. The children absolutely love it, they get to play with other children their own age, and it gives Amandine a chance to relax."

"Yes, well, Greg and I are taking some time in a few weeks to go and visit his parents in San Gabriel, then spending some time at the house on Lake Mead."

"How do Greg's parents' feel about their son dating someone so old?"

Nadine fought the urge to hang up on her mother. Instead, she gritted her teeth and replied as evenly as possible, "Mama, Greg is two years older than me, so what does that make him?"

"Well, I'll be the judge of that when I arrive in Las Vegas."

A noise similar to _ka-pow_ sounded in Nadine's head. "What?"

"I'll be arriving on the thirteenth at approximately six-fifteen your time-"

"But, Mama, Greg and I leave on the twelfth for San Gabriel to see his parents."

"I'm sure they'll understand, Nadine."

Nadine dragged a hand through her hair, went to the fruit bowl on her kitchen counter and picked up a navel orange. She needed to do something with her hands. "Alright, we can always go the next weekend-"

"My flight home is on the twenty-ninth," Marie-Fantine interrupted, "and I will need an escort to the airport."

_Two weeks_, Nadine thought, horrified. "You're…you're staying for two weeks?" she asked meekly.

"Of course, my dear, it's not as if Cayenne is like Los Angeles and there's a shuttle going every other hour. And I would think you'd be a little more enthused I am coming to see you."

_A visit mother. Embarrassment. Nausea. Guilt. Torture. The sneaky bitch_. "Of course I am." Resigned, Nadine juggled the orange from hand to hand. "Do you speak any English anymore Mama?"

"Why should I? I detested the United States. Filthy country and boorish people never treated me with respect, so I don't see the point in respecting them when they-"

"I just ask because Greg doesn't speak French," Nadine cut her mother off as she tossed the fruit in the air like a pitcher testing the ball.

"Well, thankfully you've remembered enough of yours so you should have no problem translating for him. I must go, it's getting late here. I love you, my dear and I'll see you next Friday."

Nadine stood rooted to the spot after she hung up the phone, drained. Two weeks of Marie-Fantine. That would be even more awful than no vacation time, and to make things worse, it meant no alone time with Greg. Suddenly very angry, Nadine heaved the orange at her door, only in time for it to hit Greg square in the chest as he came through it.

"Oh, sorry sweetie."

"Nah, it's fine. Good thing you weren't heaving grapefruits or we'd be on our way to the ER," Greg joked, then toned it down immediately when he saw Nadine was near tears. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I called my mother back. She wants to visit."

"Oh." Greg tossed his keys in the catch-all candy dish and toed off his shoes as he followed Nadine into the kitchen. She'd begun taking onions and tomatoes out of the fridge for making his favorite dish – spaghetti and meatballs – and pulled out a large kitchen knife to begin the dicing. "When?"

"Next Friday. She wants to stay for two weeks. Two weeks Greg!" Nadine tapped her knife on the cutting board to punctuate her words. "I can't handle two weeks of her in my house, eating my food and constantly critiquing everything I do. And we're supposed to go to San Gabriel next weekend and have time for us with no distractions at the lake. I don't want to spend my two weeks off going having every move I make shadowed by that spiteful troll."

"My folks are three hours away. Your mom is four time zones away, I think they'll understand."

"And see? That's what I'm talking about!" Nadine heard her voice go higher, like Daisy Duck's but at this point she didn't care. "She's like a big sucking lifeforce…sucker. She sweeps in and takes over my life, my plans, nothing is sacred."

"Honey," Greg started, but stopped on second thought. When Nadine got on a roll she was like The Juggernaut – nothing could stop her – and she was wielding one hell of a butcher's knife. Instead, he went to the cupboard, pulled out the pasta and olive oil, as he set a large pot of water on the stove to boil. "It really can't be as bad as you think it will be."

"Really, Greg? Did your mother ever tell you that having premarital sex made you a whore no one would want?"

Greg gulped. "She said that?"

"Yeah, she did, and oh my god,"Nadine continued, going pop-eyed as she dumped the tomatoes into the crock pot with the onions, "she'll snoop through the medicine cabinet and see my condoms in there! She'll yell at me and then she'll yell at you and call you everything under the sun! _Fils de putain, qu'est-ce qu'on va faire? Elle ne laissera rien sacré, Greg, rien!"_

"Okay, all I got in there was my name, so let's put down the big scary knife," Greg suggested, taking the carving knife from her hand and nudging her towards the stove. "Why is this going to be a disaster? I'm sure after some wine and a little bit of dinner, I can butter your mother up."

"I forgot to mention, my mother doesn't speak English anymore. She dropped it when she went back to Cayenne."

Greg swallowed deeply. Okay now that would be a problem. "Even so, I'm sure that once she's sees us together, she'll realize that you have made an excellent choice with the dashing and debonair _moi_."

Nadine smiled, kissed Greg's cheek. "Smoothie," she said, "are you sure you don't mean dorky and delusional?"

"Just for that, I'm not putting out tonight," he replied with mock huffiness. It last for about two seconds when Nadine poked him in the ribs and his million-dollar smile flashed. "Trust me, everything will work out."


	5. Down the Rabbit Hole

A/N: All of Marie-Fantine's lines are in 'French', as are Nadine's when she's speaking to her mother.

* * *

"I am happy to meet you. Would you like to buy some fish?" Greg mumbled in French to no one in particular in the break room. It was a slow night – apparently the animals of Las Vegas were content to stay in their cages tonight – and he'd taken the time to relax on the couch while listening to the audio recording of _French for Dummies_ on his iPod. As much as he wanted to indulge, he resisted the siren song of his coffee stash. Caffeine right now would only make his already tense stomach turn into a perma-pretzel. Instead he continued to follow along with the pronunciation exercises, closed his eyes hoping to build his concentration.

"I will buy four pounds of salmon. Do you have any white wine?"

"What are you doing, son?"

Greg opened a wary eye; saw Nick standing by his feet. "Practicing."

"For what, interviewing Pepe le Pew?" Nick chuckled. He wandered over to the fridge, hoping that his roast beef sandwich Renee had so lovingly packed for him hadn't fallen victim to one of Grissom's experiments. After giving it the green light, he sat down at the table, prepared to dig in and grill Greg like his sister's onions. "Seriously."

"Seriously, Nadine's mother has decided ruin Nadine's vacation time by coming to town for two weeks."

"I thought you and Nadine were going to her Cabin of Love on the lake." Nick chewed thoughtfully, swallowed. "Can't you just tell her mom you've already made plans?"

"She's flying in from French Guyana in three days. I thought if I learned to speak a little, Marie-Fantine might warm up a little to the idea that her old-maid of a daughter has a decent boyfriend."

Nick arched an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but Nadine is about as far away from old maid as it is possible to get. That's like calling a Maserati a junk-heap."

"Right. How is my sister by the way?"

"Come on, Gregg-o, you know I love Renee," Nick replied jovially and only slightly annoyed his friend would think he'd consider looking anywhere else. "Just because I'm driving a Porsche doesn't mean I can't appreciate a Beamer."

"Oh please don't refer to my little sister as something you're driving," Greg winced, "it's just wrong on so many different levels."

"Whatever. Did you make your coffee?"

"Don't want any. My nerves are shot as it is trying to keep Nadine on an even keel."

"You really think it's going to be that bad?"

Greg went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of grapefruit juice. "Apparently, because Nadine isn't married with a brood of children and a full time career or some such nonsense, she's a bad person and an even worse woman since her sister has all three."

"Ouch."

"And I don't speak the language, so I won't be able to do jack-all to defend her."

"Double ouch." Nick swallowed his last mouthful of sandwich, tossed the plastic wrap in the bin. "Well, I'm sure those lessons on your 'Pod should help you sell her some fish."

"You speak French?"

"Renee's teaching me."

"Well that figures." Greg resumed his spot on the couch, hit the play button. "Wait, you already speak Spanish. What made you want to learn a different language?"

Nick blushed as he sized Greg up. "Take my advice, you don't want to know."

* * *

Three days had never gone so quick in Greg's life. It was scary enough, the idea of meeting Nadine's mother. He'd never met a girlfriend's parents before in his life, not even in high school; now the first shot out of the gate, the woman didn't even speak English. But Greg knew whatever was going through his mind wasn't even close to what Nadine was feeling. Every day she was eating less and less, and was restless at night, so much so that Greg was tempted to slip her a Valium in her tea. Already Nadine's mother was getting on his nerves and he hadn't even met her yet. 

At the moment, he was standing with Nadine as they waited at the gate. When he heard _Passengers from Flight Thirty-three-seventeen Cayenne to Las Vegas please claim your luggage_, Greg could immediately sense Nadine tense up. He grabbed her hand, squeezed it tightly; the fingers were stiff and cold as ice.

"Here we go," she murmured.

"Just remember to breathe and if she starts to get on your case, picture her as a cartoon being strapped to an Acme rocket."

This made Nadine smile a little. But the moment was short lived as a slim, sturdy looking woman with the same honey-blond hair and swimming-pool eyes as Nadine approached them, tugging a stylish navy blue suitcase-on-wheels behind her. She wore a pair of creamy chino pants and a raspberry blouse that probably cost more than Greg made in a month, and the shoes on her feet were surely pure leather. When she stopped in front of them, the smile on her face was fake as Catherine's collagen lips.

"Nadine, my sweet little girl," Marie-Fantine crooned, "How wonderful to see you."

"I'm so happy to see you too, Mama," Nadine replied, hugging her mother tightly, and automatically taking her suitcase. "How was your flight?"

"Terrible as usual. What can you expect from an American airline though? Now, did you bring your car Nadine, or will we flag a shuttle?"

"Actually, we brought Greg's truck." She stopped, brushed her hand over Greg's arm, a signal for him to stop so she could make the introductions as best as possible. "Mama this is my boyfriend, Greg Sanders."

Greg knew this was his cue to hold out his hand to Marie-Fantine. "Nice to meet you," he said, keeping what he hoped was a calm smile on his face.

Marie-Fantine kept the goldfish-looking smile on her face as she tipped down her sunglasses and sized Greg up. "He's handsome enough, I guess, though your taste always ran to the odd. But what can you expect from a science geek? Now, let's get going, I want to be settled in by the lake by nightfall."

With that, Marie-Fantine swept past both of them, leaving Nadine looking like she wanted to throw up. Greg instantly went to her, kissed her reassuringly.

"See? It's going okay so far, right?"

"She called me a science nerd with no taste. I suppose that's an improvement from a geek with no man-fetching qualities."

"Just try to relax."

"Come along, Nadine, stop dawdling!" Marie Fantine called over her shoulder. Nadine took Greg's advice and immediately pictured her strapped to Wile E. Coyote's infamous Acme rocket.

Greg didn't have to speak the same language to notice the condescension in the tone. He simply couldn't believe that a mother could be so hostile towards their daughter. His own mother Sonya was Renee's biggest fan, aside from Nick, and talked to anyone and everyone who'd listen about her daughter's accolades. Greg bore no ill will towards Renee for it, since she deserved every ounce of what was said, just as he knew his father gushed about his son solving crime through science and not the way of the gun. This kind of _Attitude_, italicized with a capital A, made Greg's mouth hang open just a little bit more in shock.

Then, as they were all piling into his Jeep, Greg got another shock when Marie-Fantine said something to Nadine which made her pomegranate red with fury and Nadine mumbled to Greg, "My mother doesn't want you staying in the same room as me at the mansion. She doesn't think it's proper."

"Proper?" Greg spluttered. "Nadine, I think we passed _proper_ in her books the first time we had kissed."

"Honey, I know it's hard, but trust me, it'll be over soon."

"Okay. I'm going to drop you guys off and pick up my stuff from my apartment."

After the grueling two hour drive out and back to Chateau Barton, as Nadine called her Lake Mead mansion, Greg now understood a little better why Nadine was so wound up. If this was what he felt like after only a few hours with Marie-Fantine he could only guess what it was like growing up with her as a mother.

Cranking his wheel hard, Greg took a detour and soon found himself parking in front of a pretty little bungalow on West Desert Drive. When he rang the bell, he sent up a silent prayer that someone was home and they were alone; the last thing he needed was to interrupt playtime between Nick and Renee. That prayer was answered when Renee opened the door in jeans and a U-Miami sweatshirt, her now shoulder length red hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Her purple-framed reading glasses were perched on her nose, behind which her blue-green eyes were clouded with confusion.

"Greg, aren't you supposed to be at Nadine's chateau having lots of cold beer and hot sex?"

"There's been a change in plans. Can I come in?"


	6. Kitchen Encounters of the Third Kind

Renee opened the door wide for her brother, worry galloping across her face. "Why aren't you in California with Nadine at Mom and Dad's?"

"Nadine's mother decided to crash Nadine's vacation time. She just blew into town and has nothing but sneaky sarcasm and back-handed suggestions for Nadine." Greg slumped onto the couch, dragging his hands over his face. "And to make matters worse, Marie-Fantine speaks only in French."

Renee joined him on the couch, passed him a glass of iced tea. "Which brings us to here. You want some tips?"

"I've been trying to learn from one of those audio recordings, but that's not my concern, it's…what, what, why are you looking at me like that?" he trailed off, seeing the big dopey grin on Renee's face.

"You're so in love with Nadine! That is too sweet!"

"Yes, yes, Greggo's a big love bug, can we focus here?"

"I know, I know, issues with the non-English speaking mother. What do you hope to accomplish with me, exactly?"

Greg drained his iced tea. Standing up to pace, he scratched his ear absently. "I want you to teach me how to say something."

"Alright, let's hear it."

He dictated his speech to Renee, who translated as she wrote it down. When she finished, she set down her pen, looked up at her brother.

"You're planning on saying this to her mother, in the hopes that you are going to magically win her over?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good luck man, 'cause you'll need it."

"Oh and you're also invited out for dinner next week to the mansion. Nadine forgot to ask when you were by last night."

Renee smiled. "Okay," she started, looked at her watch as it began to beep. "Oops, sorry I have to go wake Nick up for work."

She watched him get in the truck, then went into the bedroom where her man was sprawled on his back, snoring lightly. She stripped off her sweatshirt and crawled on top of him. The grin on her face was devilish as his eye fluttered open.

"Hey baby."

"What time is it?"

"Just after seven, you need to get up soon." Renee giggled as his arms wrapped around her waist and he rolled on top of her. "I didn't mean like that."

Nick just grinned has he kissed her. "Yeah you did."

Unable to stop the smile, she kissed him back. "Yeah, I did."

Once Greg got back to the mansion by the lake, his nerves had calmed somewhat as he murmured over and over again the words Renee had given him. He parked his Jeep in the driveway, pulled his luggage from the trunk and walked in. The scent of something spicy and delicious hit him immediately as he followed his nose into the kitchen. He knew it was male of him; he knew it was so stereotypical that Nadine, not to mention Renee Sara _and_ Catherine, would have his ass on a platter if he admitted it, but there was something comforting about coming home to a meal being prepared so lovingly by his woman. Leaving his luggage by the island, he stood watching Nadine bustle around. She'd changed into a t-shirt and stretchy leggings which were covered in an olive green apron and she was singing along quite beautifully to Alan Jackson on the iPod she'd plugged into the kitchen speakers. The look of pure content mixed with concentration on her face as she mixed, chopped and stirred in putting together the meal made Greg smile; then he nearly doubled over when she turned her cooking utensil into a microphone.

"She don't know she's beautiful, no she's not that kind," Nadine sang into her wooden spoon, then stopped short when she looked up and saw Greg standing in the doorway trying his best to not laugh at her. "Oh hi, I didn't hear you come back in. Here try this."

She scooped up a bit of the spicy dish she was making, held it to Greg lips. "What do you think?"

"It's good," he managed. It felt like his tongue had been set on fire; when his eye began to water, his nose to run, Nadine grinned.

"Good?"

"If good means 'feels like I swallowed fresh lava' then it's very good."

Nadine tried some and just shrugged, making Greg's eyebrows go upwards. "Yeah, I'd say it's reached 'acceptable' for my mother. She likes spicy foods and chicken pilau is one of her favorites."

"That's cool, I think I'll just stick to something a little les hot, you know, like normal chicken or…ice."

"Don't worry; I've made chicken dumplings too, so long as you try a little at the table of the pilau, you'll be okay."

"Nadine, from what I've heard you say about your mother, I highly doubt anything I do will be good enough."

"That's not your fault, honey, but I can tell you if you try the hot dish for me," she added jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter so she could be eye to eye with Greg, "I'll try on my hot lingerie for you tonight."

Greg let out a low chuckle, leaned in to kiss Nadine. They became lost in the passionate embrace, not really aware of their surroundings until the sharp, disapproving sound of a throat being cleared jolted them apart. Greg looked over his shoulder, his face burning hot as the chicken, to face Marie-Fantine. She looked as pleased as a sat-on porcupine.

"Nadine! What are you doing?"

"Making dinner, Mama," Nadine said, sliding down off the counter. "It should be ready shortly."

"It would be ready now if you could control yourself."

Nadine glared at her mother, rapping the spoon hard against the rim of the stock pot. "I must have been crazy to think I could kiss my boyfriend in my kitchen. Can you imagine if we'd been having sex in here? I'd have forgotten about dessert too."

"Well at least it would mean the possibility of you having children, young lady."

Nadine's winced a little at this, something which didn't go unnoticed by Greg. "If I want kids Mama, believe me you'll be the first to know. Now why don't you go pick out a bottle of wine? I've made chicken pilau, your favourite."

Marie-Fantine stalked off, muttering about what her daughter meant by 'if', leaving Greg to stare at his girlfriend.

"What was that about?"

"Greg, you know about what happened with me and Seth, and the…medical problems that ensued."

"Right." Greg's blood sizzled a little at the mention of Nadine's last boyfriend, who'd come up in a conversation about their future together.

"Well, my mother doesn't know."

"What?"

"I didn't want to tell her, because when I told her I was in the hospital because he'd hit me, the first thing out of her mouth was something to the effect that perhaps if I had actually been pregnant, then it was less likely he'd have hit me. So I didn't tell her."

"And she didn't take into account the suspicion of being knocked up was the reason he hit you in the first place?" Trying to find the logic of it made Greg's head hurt but it was short lived as Nadine slumped against the counter, weary with defeat. She was perilously close to tears as she scooped the fiery meat into a serving dish.

"I better get this out there before she accuses me of giving you oral sex in here."

Later that night, when he was finished readying himself for bed, he carefully opened Nadine's door and shut it soundlessly. He pulled his loose t-shirt over his head, his thin white scars looking silvery in the moonlight, then crawled in beside Nadine. He wrapped his arms around her to gather he close, kissing her lightly as he looked at her face. She looked so peaceful here, almost angelic, where the stress of everything she was facing seemed to slip away.

Greg found his thoughts slipping back to what she'd said before dinner, about the problems she now face because of her boyfriend from three years before. Seth Balder, the bastard who'd thought Nadine had gotten pregnant when she was a few days late, had taken it to mean she'd been cheating on him and had beaten the crap out of her. She'd wound up in the hospital with two cracked ribs, a blackened eye and worst of all, a ruptured uterus courtesy of the kick to the stomach he'd given her. Nadine hadn't been pregnant – blood tests had confirmed it – she'd simply been under stress which had thrown off her cycle by a couple of weeks but the shot Seth had taken at her left her with only a thirty five percent chance of ever having her own babies.

When she'd told this to Greg, he realized that this was _the_ woman who he wanted to be with, to show her that not all men would react to the possibility of a baby like that. What was more, he realized he also wanted to have children with her, and a quick trip to the doctor's revealed that if they were considering it at all, they should waste no time in trying. That had been two months before, two months without luck but Greg and Nadine both knew it wasn't from lack of trying. But when each pregnancy test she'd taken came back negative, Greg could see a little of that pain come back to her. And he knew that she wanted to have her own children, not just adopt or have a surrogate, despite all her mother's pressure to start a family. It was something Nadine really wanted.

As she let out a little sigh, her fingers curling on his chest, Greg felt a little tear slip down his cheek.


	7. Mama Mia II

The week went by at a crawl. Nearly every waking moment Nadine had was spent with her mother, barely giving her any time away for herself or to spend with Greg for that matter. There was nothing Marie-Fantine could do outside of the house, since she spoke no English, without her daughter's assistance. Greg was sticking to his iPod teachings religiously and could pick up a few phrases, but they spoke so quickly by the time he processed a response, the subject had been dropped. And Nadine…poor Nadine looked like she'd been squeezed through the pickle press. Every morning she woke up with a fresh bout of anxious nausea; the circles under her eyes from lack of good sleep could have hid Ali Baba and his Forty Thieves. Every time he thought he had a moment alone with her, Marie-Fantine would be bouncing into the room demanding Nadine's attention or assistance.

The one break came when an old Francophone friend of Marie-Fantine's from across the lake invited her over for tea. Nadine had all but kicked her mother out of the house, hoping for a little peace and quiet. She wanted nothing more than to drag Greg upstairs and bang his brains out, which was precisely what she did the minute she was certain Marie-Fantine was safely away. It had been almost a week since they'd made love, and since it was usually two or three times a week at least they did so, Nadine felt like a junkie having withdrawal. Now she lay flat on her back on the floor of their bedroom – they'd had been too impatient to get to the bed – chest heaving as she gulped air into her lungs and ran her hands through Greg's hair. He'd collapsed on top of her and was now propping his chin on his fists that rested in the valley between her breasts.

"Thank you, God," she said aloud before cracking up laughing.

"I don't know who needed that more, you because you've been so stressed out or me because I'm a guy."

"Oh me, definitely. It has been hell, Greg absolute hell," she said, but was cut off by the doorbell ringing. "Were you expecting anyone?"

Nadine wriggled out from underneath him, pull her bathrobe from the hook of her door on the way. She pulled her hair from her face and fixed a polite smile on her face as she opened the door. The grin turned goofily guilty when she saw Nick and Renee standing there with grocery bags in their arms.

"Hi Nadine," Nick said in a placidly knowing tone. "How's the vacation with Greg and your mother?"

"Ignore him; he's mad I didn't put out this morning when he got in from work. We brought supplies to help with dinner, thought you guys might like some friendly faces," Renee smiled, shoving past her boyfriend. She knew that look on a woman's face, since she'd seen it so often on her reflection in Nick's mirror. As she waltzed into the kitchen, she pulled a bottle of tequila from one of the paper bags.

"Thirsty?"

"Yeah man," Nadine replied, though the thought of alcohol had her stomach turning over. Something about any kind of fermented beverage was making her stomach churn; Nadine blamed it on the harpy across the water. "Actually, I'll pass; I've been feeling a little nauseous lately."

Renee's female senses immediately went to hyper-drive. "Nauseous? As in, like, in the morning?" she asked innocently.

"I don't know. Probably not."

"Probably, says the girl doing my big brother on a daily basis. You think there might be a little Greggo or Nadine running around soon?" Then all of a sudden, Nadine burst into tears, which had Renee rushing around the island. "Hey, what's all this?"

"No, no, it's fine," Nadine sniffled. "It's just…my mother is here and giving me all this shit about family and babies, and-and I love Greg so much, but…"

Nadine's tears started up fresh again, which had Renee pulling her into a soothing embracing. The noise of it had brought the men running from the foyer, but Renee headed them both off at the pass.

"It's okay, just a little girl moment here. Greg, why don't you and Nick have a game of pool in the games room?"

Greg was concerned about the fact his girlfriend looked like she'd been told Christmas was cancelled this year but he trusted his sister; she was a natural nurturer and his beloved would be in good hands. A slap on Nick's shoulder and a jerk of the head left the girls alone once again.

"I'm sorry, Renee."

"It's okay, I think you've had that one on the brew for awhile. Now," Renee sat on the bar stool and pulled the tequila closer, "what has got you so upset?"

"Babies."

"Babies, okay, that's a start. You and Greg don't want babies?"

"Are you kidding? We can't wait to have them, but there's a good possibility I won't be able to conceive." Nadine tearfully explained her situation, while Renee simply listened. "So the last time I took the test, it was very discouraging to once again see the little minus sign."

"Don't worry; I'm sure you have a good shot at it. Look at me and Greg, there's six years between us because my mom was told after he was born she was off the mommy wagon."

"I know, I know, it's just…my sister is thirty one, she's got a seven year old, a five year old, a three year old and a one year old, and been married for eleven years."

"So?"

"So in my mother's old school eyes, she's an ideal woman and I'm the whore of Babylon."

Renee sighed. "I can't say I understand because I don't. I grew up with a brother and we got along really well. What I will tell you is that perhaps the reason your mama is so wound up is because it scares her that you don't need her to be a mother anymore. But that doesn't change the fact she is your mother and deep down I'm sure she's only thinking of your happiness."

Nadine stared at Renee. "You're good, man, you are really good. Now could you tell her that?"

"Sorry, sunshine, that's going to be all you."

The door opened then, and Marie Fantine strolled in, a haughty look on her face. "Of all the nerve, that insipid woman! Nadine! Where are you?" she bellowed.

"Mama, what is it?" Nadine called from the kitchen.

"That woman who said she was happy to have me in for the afternoon not only insisted on speaking to me in English but also tried to tell me that she just loves this man who calls himself your boyfriend!"

"Well Naira has had Greg and me over for dinner, Mama," Nadine tried but was cut-off as Renee showed off her linguistic skills and stepped in with her own French.

"That would be my brother, Madame, and he is a wonderful man who simply adores Nadine. I've never seen him happier."

Marie-Fantine sniffed at Renee. "And you are?"

"Doctor Renee Sanders, I'm a psychologist."

"Good, perhaps you can treat my daughter and explain to her that she shouldn't be having a boyfriend at her age, she should have a husband. And she'll never get one lounging around in her bathrobe while that odd little man with the spiked hair spends his time in this house. It sends the wrong message to potential suitors."

Nadine swallowed a laugh at her mother's blindness while beside her, Renee fumed. "With all due respect, my brother is a perfect match for Nadine; he is a decent and honorable man who works hard and loves her more than words can say."

"You'd be wise to hold your tongue, my dear, where Nadine is concerned. She's pushing thirty and still has a boyfriend; your brother will soon come to his senses. I only wish I could say the same about my unfortunate daughter."

At this Nadine had to literally hold back Renee from using her jujitsu skills on Marie-Fantine's narrow ass; Marie-Fantine took no notice of it as she continued, "Now, I'm going to have a nap, so you'll wake me when dinner is ready."

After the petite blonde swept up the stairs, Renee turned back to her friend. "Please let me do her in; I've got a forty-five, a shovel and a pipeline to the sheriff's office. No one would miss her."

Nadine giggled at Renee's enthusiasm to commit murder, and only arched an eyebrow when Renee unscrewed the lid from the tequila and took a quick pull. "Well, I guess I should probably go and get a shower, and start on dinner soon. My mother should be a little bit more calm by the time we sit down."

"Okay. But if she says one more thing like that again to you when I'm within earshot-"

"Don't worry, you'll get first crack on her."


	8. The Mother Lode

That night, Greg imagined it would have been easier to sit through a Chinese water-torture interrogation that scoop up jerked pork with rice and onions at the same table as Marie-Fantine. From the looks on everyone else's faces, he could tell they were thinking the same thing: get this crazy bitch out of here.

The large arid dining room echoed with the sounds of clinking silverware on plates, the occasional glug of wine poured, the soft splat of food onto plates. Greg sat in his chair with Nadine on one side; across the table Nick and Renee sat quietly, poised to take any kind of cue from Nadine. Marie-Fantine sat at the head, glaring at Nadine like she was committing a cardinal sin. Hoping to alleviate the tension Renee spoke up politely.

"Marie-Fantine, Greg is a connoisseur of wines; he's taken us to some wine-testing in Henderson. He's starting to collect a few fancy bottles himself as well."

"So he can afford fancy wines, but he can't afford a ring for you?" Marie Fantine replied in smooth French, bypassing Renee and speaking to Nadine as if she'd made the comment.

"Mama, watch your manners. Greg and I are progressing at our own speed, not at anyone else's," Nadine replied.

"You say that like you have all the time in the world. You're getting older by the day, you can't wait forever."

"Wait for what, Mama? Just because I don't have my own mini soccer team like Amandine and a big iceberg on my hand doesn't mean I'm unhappy. Unlike my sister, babies and a husband is not the yardstick of my accomplishments."

"I think I'm going to go for a walk, Nick, do you want to join me?" Renee asked pointedly.

"Absolutely."

Marie-Fantine waited until the two young lovers had exited before she opened her mouth again.

"You should have a family of your own by now, Nadine, not taking care of other people's children and cavorting about town like some tramp."

"Tramp?" Nadine gaped at her mother. "I'm a tramp? Amandine had an affair with a married professor when she was eighteen, and I'm a tramp?"

"He was separated from his wife, left her for Amandine and they've been happily married for nearly eleven years. You're just jealous because of all the success your sister has in her life."

"Of course I'm jealous!" Nadine burst out, leaping to her feet. Her eyes were wild and her face was flushed; for a tiny moment Greg thought she would be able to actually breathe fire. "You _always_ chose Amandine over me! She's always had your approval! You always told her how pretty and how smart she was!"

"Lower your voice in your father's house," Marie-Fantine shouted back, also on her feet now.

"No, this is my house now, Mama, and you will treat me with respect in my house. I am a good nurse; ask anyone, and I love my job. For the first time in my life, I have a boyfriend who actually cares about me, who doesn't drink or beat the shit out of me for kicks. He treats me like a damned queen, and would cut off his own hand before raising it against me, and I love him very much. I love working with children and can't wait to have my own with Greg, so don't you sit there and tell me how awful my life is! I have a wonderful life, I'm proud of it! You not only owe me an apology for the awful things you've said to me, but also to Greg as well and until I hear it, you're not welcome in this house."

With that, Nadine stormed out of the dining room, slamming the kitchen door with a resounding _crack_ and leaving Greg and her mother to stare after her.

"I am sorry Greg; she's always had a temper. I think you'd be wise to just leave her be," Marie-Fantine said with a polite smile on her face, knowing he didn't understand a drop of what she was saying. Then to her utter shock, Greg rose, bracing his hands on the table and began to speak in her mother tongue. It was halting and broken but it was French nonetheless.

"Madame de Rosemont, I love your daughter. We have a future together; a future that I also hope includes children one day. She's done nothing but bend over backwards trying to please you, and you do nothing but throw it back in her face." Greg took a deep breath. It was bad enough to dress down a critical parent in English. For this he figured he deserved a Purple Heart. "She deserves your respect and admiration and most of all an apology from you. I agree with my girlfriend: until you start accepting her, we will not accept you. You can show yourself out."

Greg stood up, taking his plate with him to the kitchen only to find Nadine standing outside the sliding door on the deck, tears coursing down her cheeks as she stared at the lake. He stepped outside, rubbed her shoulders before turning her around to face him.

"Hey, come on," he fumbled as he pulled Nadine close against him.

"I'm not going to apologize for my outburst. She deserved everything I said."

"And I told her myself that she has to either apologize or clear out." Greg stopped when he saw the look on her face. "What?"

"You said that to her?"

"Yeah."

"In French?"

"Yeah."

"You learned French for me?" Genuinely touched, Nadine pressed her fingertips to her lips as Greg just shrugged and looked sheepish.

"I got enough from one of those _French for Dummies_ books. They're actually quite handy, chèrie."

"That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

They kissed then, forming a single silhouette against the fading light of the sunset, and were interrupted when Marie-Fantine stepped onto the terrace wearing a wounded look and speaking in frighteningly awful English which Nadine knew was a put-on attempt to try and gain sympathy from her daughter. It was a ploy that had never worked on her before and would not work now.

"Nadine, I don't feel I've done anything but put your best interests first on this visit."

"Yet clearly you see fit to be rude to me in my house, to my guests and my boyfriend."

"I can't say I approve of this boyfriend idea Nadine, but I suppose I should not be surprised since you never took my advice growing up." Marie-Fantine folded her hands at her waist. "I have telephoned a taxi cab to take me to a hotel in Las Vegas, I will telephone you when I've arrived there. I will be taking an early flight out tomorrow morning since my ticket is opened ended, and the hotel is providing a shuttle for me so you won't be put out."

The hard-done-by angle was also one Nadine had no use for from her mother. "Very well."

There was no embrace, no wistful parting words, just a slightly chilly silence as Marie-Fantine slipped back inside and closed the door with a soft snap.

Nadine turned back to Greg then. "Do you know what this means?"

"The vacation from hell is finally over?"

"No, the best vacation is just beginning."


	9. Seasons of Love: The Beginning

Three hours later, Greg Nadine Nick and Renee were lounging in the main living room of the mansion that overlooked the lake. Greg was stretched out on the leather couch on his stomach, while Nick and Renee were cuddled into its matching chair beside the roaring fire in the marble hearth.

"So, Marie-Fantine has checked into her hotel, she called while you were in the bathroom."

Nadine smiled as she sat down on the floor, so her face was near Greg's and stared at the ceiling. "I really hate to yell, I do. But sometimes there is no other way to get through to people."

"Well, you were a champ, sweetie," Greg kissed her cheek. "Even I was scared of you. You two missed her; she was like Medora the Dragon Lady or something."

"Well I think a little celebration is in order."" Renee nodded in approval, then got up to grab her tote. Three cheers went up as she pulled out the bottle of tequila and wiggled it enticingly. Tumblers and mixer was found, but when the drinks were passed around, Renee noticed that Nadine didn't even touch hers. "Nadine sweetie, you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine."

"You're not touching your drink."

"Yeah, well…" Nadine blew out a breath, hoping she could keep her face composed. "I don't know if it's such a good idea for us."

Greg choked in mid-sip, the alcohol burning his throat. "Us? _Us_?" He repeated incredulously. He scrambled up, nearly dropping his drinking in the process. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Nadine leapt to her feet to wrap her arms around Greg, then pulled a white stick from her pocket. "Take a look."

But Greg didn't even bother to glance at it. Instead he kissed his girlfriend deeply, his hands trailing over her shoulders, her back, pulled her hips close to his, not seeming to care that Nick and Renee were staring open-mouthed at them.

"What's going on, now?" Nick said under his breath.

Renee looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Are you blind?"

"What?"

Renee rolled her eyes, tugged Nick to his feet. "You dumb ass, she's pregnant!" She let out a little cry as Nadine spun out of Greg's grasp and into her arms. "I'm so happy for you!"

"I didn't even know you two were trying to have kids." Nick looked more than a little dumbfounded as he slapped Greg on the back. "Or were you trying to avoid them?"

"No, we definitely want them," Greg replied, the grin never leaving his face. "But there was a chance we might not have been able to have them, if we'd waited awhile into our relationship."

"How come?" Nick asked, concerned.

"My boyfriend before Greg thought I might be pregnant so he kicked me in the stomach and it ruptured my uterus," Nadine explained. "My doctor told me that my chances of natural conception were put at thirty-five percent at best after that. Greg and I talked about it, and since we know this is the real deal, we didn't see any reason to not give having kids a shot."

"And now you're goign to have one. Dude!" Renee punched her brother in the arm. "I'm going to be an aunt! That's so cool! Are you hoping for a boy?"

"How about let's get used to the idea of being a papa first?" Greg looked at Nadine. "When did you find out?"

"Just now, while I was in the bathroom. I brought an extra EPT test with me just in case that last one I'd taken was wrong."

Greg nodded, the tears well up. He'd seen the look of utter disappointment when she'd taken it the last time, wished there'd been something he could do to make it better. As he looked at the smile on her face as she hugged Renee and Nick, Greg had never been prouder of her.

* * *

Nadine lay on the bed of their room in the mansion, staring down at her wiggling toes. She studied each one carefully; giddy with the knowledge they'd be invisible to her in a matter of months. 

This was how Greg found her after he returned from brushing his teeth. He watched her lift one foot three inches off the bed, lower it, then raise the other one.

"I'm appreciating my feet, Greg, since I won't be able to look at them in six month's time," she said, craning her neck to look at him before he stretched out beside her. "Do you think I'll make a good mama?"

Greg thought of Marie Fantine, thought of their child so new inside her. "Absolutely."

She turned onto her side, pillowing her head on her shoulder. "You're awful quiet."

"I'm just enjoying watching you."

"Well, watch all you want, since along with the feet this gorgeous figure will also be on hiatus while I grow Pierre or Esme in here."

"Nadine, don't think like that."

"I can't help it."

"Look at me." Greg just shook his head, gestured to his scars. "You love my body, war wounds and all. Why would you think I'd feel any different about yours when you're cooking Greg Junior or Astrid in your belly?"

Nadine wrinkled her nose; she hated knowing he was right and she was being silly. Instead she arched an eyebrow at him. "Astrid? Really?"

"Pierre? Really?"

"Peter was my dad and I'm half French."

"My people are Norwegian and Astrid was my grandmother. I know." Greg grinned suddenly, starting to get a kick out of the idea of being a daddy. "Let's ask him or her."

Nadine laughed as he scooted down the bed so he was talking to her belly. "You're such an idiot."

"Quiet, I'm talking to my kid in there. What do you say, big guy? Are you a Pierre or a Greg, or an Oliver? Or if you're my little princess what about Nadine or Sonja or Astrid. Wait, what's that?" Greg cocked his head, as if he were being whispered to. "Yeah I think that's a good idea."

"What?" Nadine asked, as he slid back up the bed. He began to undress first her then himself, kissing her the entire time, in short quick pecks between his words.

"Junior thinks I should show this mama just how much I love her."


End file.
